


Good Job, Buddy

by Shinzu



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinzu/pseuds/Shinzu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good Cop came back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Job, Buddy

**Author's Note:**

> These are various stories that take place after the movie, featuring our favorite cops and most likely other characters. I guess there is one central 'plot', but each chapter is something on its own. Because you can never have enough fanfiction on Good Cop coming back am I right. Legoverse.

With the silence in his head he could do whatever he pleased. There were no mingling emotions to halt his plans or give him second thoughts, and whatever Lord Business wanted would get done pronto without the other half butting in. It was relieving. Liberating. No one tried chastising him for attacking and kicking chairs or getting too physical with prisoners. No one laughed at his drawing of The Special in a hat, and when he had found Cloud Cuckoo Land he didn't hear the 'good job, buddy!!' that most likely would have followed. He wasn't mentally shoved away as he normally was. He was him. And for a day or two, he felt more normal than he had in a long time.

But this was definitely a problem. As much as the other half annoyed him, as relieving as this entire ordeal was, he missed it. He couldn't feel the happiness and optimism the other half could. Sure, there were moments when he was proud of himself, like when he let himself smile at the praise he received just minutes ago, but his smile was gone and his judgment was off.

Vitruvius had been decapitated. He was unsure what to think. On one hand, the most powerful of the Master Builders had been eliminated and their plans could go off without a hitch. But on the other, Lord Business had killed another person. In fact, he had killed many, Kragled others, and having had his other half destroyed not even two days ago, Bad Cop knew this was it. Good Cop was annoying. Bad Cop had stronger physical strength, but his other half was better mentally. He couldn't control when Good Cop would decide to show up, and there were very few moments when Good Cop would let him take over in important decisions like this. Good Cop knew what he was doing.

Now that it was just Bad Cop, he to decide for himself what to do. Good Cop would have the common sense to have split immediately had Bad Cop been erased instead. Good Cop would have figured that it was the time to abandon the Master Builder arresting business for the time being-- or for good. Deciding now, standing next to The Special, to stop and think and decide to go was what Good Cop would have wanted.

He couldn't be physical and mental at the same time. 

When Lord Business tore The Special away from him and strapped him to one of his detonating machines, he stated simply that Bad Cop was to remain there and die. That was it. Just like that, he was nothing. Years of abuse and protecting Good Cop like the annoying other half-- or little brother-- he was had been in vain. Enduring getting thrown, smashed, picked up, and used as a punching bag for strange artifacts and bricks had been for nothing.

He managed to escape the room before anyone could see. He tore apart the skeleton robots as if he had spent his entire life devoted to disassembling them. He threw the pink briefcase aside, rushed around the tower to find anything to protect himself with, or a room to hide. This was what he was supposed to do, right? Lord Business was a liar, a murderer. He shouldn't have to put up with his torment for any longer. But was it...right?

In anger and confusion he grabbed the nearest item and threw it against the wall, yelling his telltale catchphrase of 'DARN DARNY DARN'. The Kragled pieces of both the wall and the water cooler didn't break, but it was enough to satisfy him for the time being and clear his mind.

The room Bad Cop had found beside the broadcasting room was isolated, quiet. It was one of those conference rooms that never got used and had been built solely to fill up space in the tower as it grew taller. Robots didn't need conference rooms. If there was a single sentient being that Lord Business ever needed to chat with, it was always in his office at the top of the building. Usually hanging over the void. And getting knocked upside the head.

Bad Cop found the untouched room to be as relieving as the moment Good Cop had been erased. It was quiet, he was able to think, hum, calm himself down and work out a plan. Good Cop would have urged him to. In fact, Good Cop would have flipped around and started taking over for Bad Cop as the voice of reason. He would have spoken out loud for hours until Bad Cop's thoughts were untangled and he could figure out what to do. He would have spoken until Bad Cop understood. 

_I could help them_ , he thought as he adjusted his helmet and set his face in a scowl. _But no maybe I should help L-- no, Lord Business wants me dead. I can't help him..._

He spent at least ten minutes staring at the smooth surface of the table. It was as he was staring at his reflection that he realized he could not hear the Think Tank voice. He hadn't heard an explosion either, and the building was still in perfect condition. He heard yelling from down the hall, the room next door was starting to be taken over. There was a feminine voice across all the speakers and televisions in the building. When he turned to look, he found Lord Business' fleet of skeleton robots marching down the halls toward the room.

He could help them. It was the least he could do.

As he was headed out the door, he felt a familiar jerk in his mind. He recoiled, instinctively let his guard down. Bad Cop's scowl only grew, but he stopped dead in his tracks. 

_G-good job, buddy..._


	2. Thank You, Buddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only half of what I wrote, but I felt like dragging this on would have been rather boring. My style doesn't quite work for longer pieces yet. But if a long piece is what you'd like, I can try!
> 
> This chapter was written alongside the first one, so that's the only reason this one's out so fast. If you have ideas for future ones, let me know and I'll be glad to take a try at writing it!

The dull roar of the food court was threatening to lull him into sleep. His parents sat in a booth down the line, having understood that for the time being, he needed to be alone. It seemed, however, that with all the excitement and terror of the day, some people still wanted to get up, socialize, make sure everyone was okay. He watched one in particular, The Special, bounce from one red table to the next, greeting the unicat, Batman, Wyldstyle, and dozens of others who had helped that morning against Lord Business and the Micromanagers.

He shifted his gaze away, staring at the cushion on the other side of the booth from his. The food here was okay, he'd had food like this before while working at Lord Business', but he just couldn't eat. Not when his other half wouldn't answer him.

“Hey! Hey, why so frustrated Bad Cop? Is it that you can't build and help everyone else?”

“Special--”

“No, no just call me Emmett!” The construction worker laughed and slid into the booth, sitting in front of the cop with a smile plastered on his face. It was genuine, friendly, inviting, as if the events of this morning didn't completely register. Actually, that wouldn't be surprising. “You don't have to call me that anymore, you know. But I saw you looked kinda angry. Anything I can do to help?”

He grumbled, shoving his plate of untouched croissants aside. “I don't feel well,” he deadpanned. “When Good Cop came back, I was running on adrenaline and excitement that my parents were okay. Now it's gone. I don't feel well.” His parents under stood it easily enough, but Emmett frowned at him the same way the other Master Builders frowned at him from across the room.

Here in his corner, the cop wasn't so bad, so he didn't understand why everyone kept staring at him. He could sit and watch, hum to himself, be alone, try to coax Good Cop to flip their faces around and greet everyone with the same enthusiasm as an annoying little brother. It was hard, though. He was so used to his other half just flipping around on his own and now he could hardly get a word out. He was getting a headache trying to even get his other half to speak to him.

The silence was awkward to Emmett. The cop could tell from the sweat building up on his forehead, the fake smile he was giving, the awkward laugh. “W-well this was a nice chat. You know I'm sure if you tried hard enough you c-could build something, if that's also what's upsetting you. I could give you some instructions on some houses! Some instructions are good. They're good for new people. Some people don't have the creativity--”

“What are you? That rainbow cat? Go away. I said I don't feel well and I already told you why.”

Bad Cop scowled, but Emmett wasn't going to give up so easily, it seemed. “Oh! I could take you to a doctor, there's lots of doctors running around outside!”

“I have my own doctor, thanks.” 

Without warning, a look of shock crossed his face and it flipped around, causing Emmett to yelp. It caught the attention of all the Master Builders, and everyone, even the cop's parents, turned to look at him. “Hi Emmett!” Good Cop smiled as best he could, reaching over the table to wave toward the construction worker. He was unfazed by all the attention.

The face swapped back to Bad Cop, who slammed his fists into the table. It startled Emmett again and this time Master Builders started gathering around, preparing their weapons should an attack break out. “Don't attack me! I'm fine, this isn't about you! It's been hours, Good Cop. I thought you disappeared again! Why won't you talk to me!”

His face flipped back around and his hands tapped together. “W-w-well I...I doooon't feel good. I thiiink I-I've been giving it to you, actually...” His accent got thicker, more slurred. “I never meant to give it to you, b-b-but--”

Bad Cop appeared again, pressing his clawed hands into the table. He was staring straight at Emmett, and the poor guy looked as if he wanted to just get up and disappear in the blink of an eye. “I've been waiting hours for you to come back. Y-you couldn't have even said /hey/?”

“I'm sorry. I'm just-- I'm reaaally tired.” Good Cop tried to smile. It hurt his face so much, but Bad Cop had drawn it for him. Without this, he wouldn't have ever been able to emerge from just a single thought. Bad Cop was good. He loved the face he drew him. “I'm tired and feeeeel s-s-sick-- but I just wanted to come out and say hi!”

Emmett jumped against Wildstyle when Bad Cop switched back. “I need to go,” he said, pulling himself from the booth. He looked green in the face, the headache he was feeling earlier intensified with Good Cop's headache. Even his stomach was churning. “G-Good Cop can't be here right now. Bye. I'm sorry I have to leave.”

“Wait--” Wyldstyle began, but he didn't answer.

He rushed out the door, dodging past Master Builders giving him an odd look. Most likely his parents were following, but he needed to be alone. For Good Cop.

_Thank you, buddy._


End file.
